


12 Little Hours

by Hurricos



Series: Emotional Machine [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Android/Human, Eventual smut maybe?, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gavin being a dick, Hank and reader are best pals, Mentions of one of my fav LDR albums and songs lmao, Sarcasm, connor is babie™️, pre-deviant connor, rated mature for later works in the series, small dick jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:48:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23731864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hurricos/pseuds/Hurricos
Summary: You are a much loved detective at the DPD. They have recently been ‘blessed’ with their very own android detective. No one seems to treat Connor with any sort of respect, apart from you.An urgent incident mucks up the on-call night shift rota - and suddenly you end up having to go with Connor.What possibly could happen in the space of 12 hours with your new android acquaintance?
Relationships: Connor (Detroit: Become Human) & Reader, Connor (Detroit: Become Human)/Reader, Connor/Reader, Hank Anderson & Reader
Series: Emotional Machine [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1709356
Kudos: 88





	12 Little Hours

**Author's Note:**

> This is my FIRST fic ever on this site! I come to read on here alllllll the time but thought I would finally give it a go writing here!
> 
> I want to dedicate this series of works to my best friend E ❤️ Thank you for getting me into DBH. Hope you enjoy x

The office felt much like a hive, not dissimilar to any other Wednesday. Backside firmly planted into your office chair, you typed away at some way overdue reports whilst engaging with the usual trivial conversation with your favourite and closest colleague.

“I swear… I spent forty fuckin’ minutes trying to explain to that android what ‘running around like a headless chicken’ meant.” Hank’s voice was visibly filled with some frustration, but littered with a lighthearted ring as his recount of Monday night’s to-dos with Connor roused some laughter from you.

The DPD had been ‘blessed’ with its very own detective android for a few weeks now. The RK800 – better known to the office as ‘Connor’, had rather been received with much distaste by most of your colleagues. You, on the other hand – had no quarrels at all. Connor was a sweetheart – always courteous and always polite. He was kind, albeit a little naïve and unable to get involved with any banter but – he had a golden heart. Your colleague and close friend Hank had been very reluctant to accept Connor as his working partner for a long time due to his past tribulations with androids – but after working with Connor a lot – even you could tell Hank was warming. Not that he let it show too much.

“Come on Hank,” you smiled, picking up a chocolate frosted donut from the box left on your desk as you took a generous bite. “You know he’s not good with stuff like that. We have to… say it like it is.” You added, albeit muffled as you tried to somewhat act dignified with a load of donut in your mouth.

“I know.” Hank responded, eyes fixed on his computer screen as he too was trying to catch up on missed admin work. “It’s just difficult sometimes when everything you say to the kid is followed up with some kinda’ dumb question.” He scoffed, shaking his head softly and the smallest hint of a smile flickering at the corner of his mouth.

-

Two more donuts in and a report down, your focus was lifted from the screen as a familiar cut figure walked into the room. You knew it was Connor even before you got a proper look at him.

“Good morning Lieutenant.” He chirped firstly to Hank, and then looked directly opposite at yourself. “Good morning detective.”

Everyone always seemed to treat Connor like some kind of lifeless vending machine or something. He was always the one giving to a conversation and a lot of people in the office never gave back. You always felt inclined to make him feel as comfortable as possible – whether he actually cared about stuff like this, you weren’t exactly sure…

“Morning Connor.” Your voice replied with equal brightness and vivacity, “how are you?”

Your question was met with a short but honest smile from the android.

“I am fine thank you, Detective (surname)!” He started, “my recent system scan revealed no errors in my software and all biocomponents are in working order.”

Your sweet smile faded a little, hindering your earnest inclination to make him feel valid. Just when you had hopes he’d show nothing but human traits – he always had these ways that reminded you he was machine.

“My _biocomponents_ are all in perfect working condition too.” Gavin Reed’s cocky suggestive tone mocked as he passed by you all on the way to his own desk. It was obvious to tell what the dirty bastard was implying. The asshole smirk on his face just begged for you to punch him. Gavin was definitely one of the worst in office for being evil to Connor.

It was only 10am and you’d already had enough- so you decided to make sure Gavin came out of this feeling like the idiot.

“They’re working, that’s good!” You mocked with a sickly sweet tone, already watching the smile drop from the detective’s smug features.

“Shame they’re on the small side, ey Gavin?” You added spitefully. Oh how the redness in his face brought you great satisfaction.

His mouth opened and closed for a few seconds, like a goldfish glubbing away in its bowl. He muttered something under his breath and stormed back to his desk.

When your (eye colour) eyes eventually returned to settle back on Connor and Hank – the look of pure amusement in Hank’s eyes was very gratifying. Oh how the pair of you detested Reed.

“I am confused.” Connor piped up, his brows furrowed. “Detective Reed does not have biocomponents…?” Connor queried. Yourself and Hank only had to glance at each other once, before the pair of you set each other off. You could be like kids sometimes.

“No, Connor…” you were about to start, when Hank interjected – obviously having some idea you would try and truss it up with delicate words to not make it sound so explicit or nasty.

“She was suggesting he had a small dick.” Was all he said, cool eyes returning back to his screen as Connor paused for a few moments. It was easy to see he was going over it, processing it – and there it was.

Like a lightbulb going off. He looked both pleased to realise and then cake to immediate distasteful look. Honestly at this point, you weren’t sure why Connor still acted so surprised at yourself and Hank’s vulgarity. He’d worked with you both for long enough.

-

_Thursday night_

The rain that pelted down onto the streets of Detroit was relentless and free from any mercy. Luckily for you, being inside the warm office at the moment was a great relief – and all you could do was listen to the constant patter as the looming thought of going out into the miserable cold and wet for your on call night shift hung over you like a bad smell.

Still, you looked forwards to it in some ways. You were on Rota with Hank, and if you guys didn’t get a call you would just talk about all things amazing regarding the past. Before driverless cars, before androids. Your friendship had been regarded as odd considering you were only 25 – but you had always been a lover of all things old. Music, fashion, culture – all of it. One of the reasons yourself and Hank got on so well was because you both shared the same twisted sense of humour and the pair of you could both be grumpy as anything. He was like a friend and a father to you all the same – and neither of you were the type to go all mushy but it was apparent that you were both glad for the friendship.

“Hey, kid.” Hank’s hand landed on your shoulder as you looked up with a smile, keys to the car in hand. You expected him to follow up with ‘ready to go?’- but instead he looked troubled.

“Somethings come up here- Fowler’s asked me to head off to a scene Reed was assigned to.” The reluctance was clear in Hank’s voice. “Apparently the prick got himself into a fight with some guy who got too close to the scene and well – as usual I’ve gotta go and patch up the fucking idiot.” He sighed heavily, rushing from your side to his desk where he collected the keys to his battered old car.

“What about night shift cover?” You called out, sounding somewhat like a lost child. Shutting up the desk drawer and grabbing his mobile, Hank seemed obviously preoccupied with the task at hand as he rushed past you.

“Connor’s around somewhere. He’ll have to come with you instead.”

The lieutenant was out of the door before you could get a word in edge ways. On call for a 12 hour night shift with Connor? Sure, it didn’t upset you but you felt slightly uncomfortable. That was a long time to fill with some of conversation.

For the first time in forever, you were hopeful the night would be packed with incidents.

-

Coat draped over your arm, you lead the way into the lot where your car was parked as Connor followed behind within a decent proximity. He had seemed quite pleased when you had asked him to attend the on call night shift with him – and you disguised your slight apprehension well with your usual smile. You just hoped this worrying was all for nothing.

Climbing into your car, you could feel Connor’s assessing dark gaze as he looked about the interior. The first noticeable thing is that your car was a driver operated vehicle only – and a fairly old vehicle too. Back in it’s day – your Mercedes Benz A Class would have been one of the flashiest things on the market in 2020. It had seen better days, years of wear and tear had treated it with marks of tough love – scrapes, and small paint chips here and there. Still, you thought it looked beautiful – in its glossy gun metal grey paint.

Switching on the ignition, you cleared your throat gently as you could still see Connor looking all around him. It was disconcerting to say the least – considering he hadn’t said a word since you’d left the precinct.

Unbeknownst to you, he was scanning the interior contents of your car – from the empty fast food cup in the cup holder to the pairs of shoes flung into the back of the car – he was assessing it all – letting it paint more of a picture of you as a person.

“I promise it’s not always this dirty.” You tried to crack a joke, as the car rolled carefully out of the parking lot and towards the junction.

“I see.” Was all he said, the pleasantness of his tone did little to settle the fact he hadn’t denied your car was dirty inside. You cringed at yourself – this wasn’t really the best start in the world.

-

The late night faded into the midnight depths, and your wish of a frantic night of policing incidents fell to pieces as you parked up in a lay-by in town – the hazy lights of bars and flashy billboards reflected in your (eye colour) eyes.

Wrapping your lips around the straw of the Diet Coke you’d just bought from a chicken shop an hour ago, you slurped noisily – mentally cursing yourself. This had been incredibly boring so far. Connor had barely said a word that wasn’t to do with work – and even then, he’d probably only mentioned two things that didn’t merit a response.

For the first time in a few hours it was nearly silent – at least before you had the hum of the engine, the occasional crackling conversation of the walkie-talkie or the click of the car indicators. No, for the first time you could actually hear the quiet music you always had on in the background.

Hands rested on his thighs, Connor stared ahead but his senses tuned in – once again, silently piecing you together. For him, the past few hours had not been awkward. He didn’t perceive it that way – he had just been carefully taking it all in. This new experience of being on the on call night shift and being alone with you.

His scanners assed the waveforms of the quiet music and enhanced them to they were decipherable.

_Artist: Lana Del Rey_

_Song: Florida Kilos_

_Album: Ultraviolence_

_Release Date: 2014_

Connor was surprised by your music taste. Knowing you were close friends with Hank, he always assumed you were probably into Knights of the Black Death too.

“Can I say something regarding your personal interests, Detective?” He started, his dulcet voice almost alarming you as it broke the near silence.

You placed your drinks cup into the only remaining holder in the centre console as you tried not to choke on the last remaining washes of cola in your mouth.

“Go on.” You said, trying to make it sound as if you did not just nearly choke to death.

“I am surprised by your music choice. These lyrics…” he paused, and you cringed deeply at what part of the song filled the silence:

_‘We could get high in Miami’_

“… they completely contradict your morales in regards to your role.” He said, looking at you as if you had to explain yourself. Why did you feel like a suspect being interrogated all of a sudden!?

You turned to face him, sighing gently. This felt like explaining something to a small naïve child.

“It’s just music, Connor.” You informed, “I like the music. That doesn’t mean I support the topics the song is about.” You added, laughing to yourself at the mere thought of that being true.

“If that were the case then you’d need to be onto Hank more than me… half of the heavy metal he listens too is about killing people and god knows what.” You said nonchalantly, finding yourself falling into conversation without even realising it.

“So… can you not understand music?” You asked out of pure curiosity – and tried to imagine how that would be if it applied to you. God, you’d be lost.

Connor waited a moment before replying.

“I can listen to music, as can anyone.” He began, “however, perceiving it on an emotional and personal level like humans do… is not possible.”

You felt bad for him then – you loved nothing more than hearing a song you adored – that reminded you of dancing in the kitchen as a kid with your mom. There was a pit of sadness in your stomach at this thought, and you quickly dismissed your gaze out of the window.

“This song on your playlist…” Connor added, “it is quite old. Do you like older music?” His innocent voice seemed filled with genuine curiosity. And your heart and mind were never happier than when you could gas to people about artists from times gone by – and how current music was so abysmal.

Picking up your phone from the side door pocket, you flicked through and found another song for him – picking at random.

“Most of my music taste comes from my mom.” You started, “she used to love playing me the music from her younger years… we’d dance to them all night.” You smiled fondly at the memories. “Her generation had some great artists.” You added, leaning back in your seat slightly and watching as a few cars drove by, water splashing at their wheels from the onslaught of rain.

“I’ve noticed a lot of things about you aren’t of this current age.” Connor put forward, as you glanced across at him with intrigued eyes.

“Your car for example – you won’t have a driverless one.” He said, “your mobile phone is a model from 5 years ago.” He gestured to the device in your hands, “and now I have discovered your music taste.”

You were going to answer to his observations, but it seemed he was not done.

“Yet despite all this – you have always been accepting of me. Kind to me when no one else was.” His brow cocked up at you with interest. “The way you live - I would expect you to not agree with androids.”

His suggestion threw you off track – you weren’t really sure how to answer him without coming across as being this gushy little detective who was growing to have a soft spot for the dear android detective who had stumbled into her working life.

“Well, the truth is Connor,” you started, looking ahead out of you out of the rainy windscreen that was overthrown with droplets due to the stationary position of the car. “I don’t really see you as an android… you are an existing being to me.” You replied, glancing back across at him and capturing a glimpse of the LED light on the side of his temple whirring and flashing in a golden yellow colour. His face looked puzzled – all this time he had been told he was a machine made to accomplish a task and now someone had told him they thought different.

He felt a sudden error – an instability in his software. There was this… ‘thing’ he could not describe. He did not want to recognise it for what it was but … he felt something at your words. Felt warmth, acceptance, admiration – friendship.

“You okay Connor?” You asked gingerly, grabbing your soda cup and taking another few audible sips as the android beside you seemed to ground himself back in the car from wherever his mind had taken him.

“Yes, sorry Detective.” He sighed, all in confusion at what had just happened to him. Part of him worried about this knew experience of ‘feeling’ – he was worried about what would happen if Cyberlife noticed these errors – what they’d do to him. He mentally cursed himself:

_‘You are a machine – designed to accomplish a task’_

Not a moment later, your walkie-talkie went off from where it was mounted to the car’s dashboard. It was an officer requesting back up from yourselves at a crime scene that had unfolded at the biggest Boxing Club in Detroit.

“We’ll be there in 2 minutes.” You responded quickly, buckling up as you switched the car’s engine on.

“Well we might actually have something to do tonight Connor, that’s good.” You laughed, indicating as you pulled away from the lay by and into the road. Connor was silent for a moment, still bemused by his previous software instabilities.

“Good, I look forwards to attending another scene with you Detective.” He added a moment later, staring directly ahead of him as your car’s wipers squeakily swept the raindrops from the windscreen.

You bore a gentle smile to yourself, at least tonight hadn’t been as bad as you anticipated. Part of you wondered why what you had said to him had made his LED flicker like that - you’d only ever seen it do that when he was working, deciphering information or if you and Hank had taught him something new – like a sarcastic phrase he didn’t understand previously.

For one, you just hoped you hadn’t upset it. Then you sighed. It was taking you longer than anyone else to remember that he was an android, he said it himself too many times – stipulating about how he was designed to hunt deviants and his aim was always to complete the task given. Yet you couldn’t help but wonder – when he saw awful things at crime scenes, when Gavin was rude to him at the office – did he feel anything? Feel the anger, feel the disgust and the sadness at these awful things?

Was he capable of being emotional?


End file.
